


Languages of Love

by tamagoyaki



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Depressed Tsuna, Family Feels, Gen, Languages of Love, takes place after everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 09:32:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16134506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamagoyaki/pseuds/tamagoyaki
Summary: It begins with a little test their homeroom teacher had them do.Your primary love language is:Physical Touch.In some ways, this does and does not change things.





	Languages of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Love languages describe the ways in which each person prefers to show and be shown affection. If you're interested in yours, do go ahead and do the test [here](https://www.psychologies.co.uk/tests/whats-your-love-language.html).
> 
> Having physical touch as a primary love language can at times feel hollow. It's like living underwater, always an arm's distance away even from the ones you care most about. They can show their affection in their love language, and sure, you may be well aware of that, but even so, there's always that element of uncertainty as to whether they truly love you because our minds are just geared towards that love = touch, you see.
> 
> This story illustrates how Tsuna's guardians accommodate that, as well as the things they've already been doing correct.
> 
> You can imagine Reborn spreading the word behind the scenes.

It begins as something like a quiz of some sort during sex ed in school. A memo sheet-like check list – more like ‘shit’-like, in Gokudera’s own words – that required them to choose one out of options A through E for twenty-something questions. They’re required to tally up the number of each option chosen thereafter.

The homeroom teacher then too cheerfully explains the meaning behind each option, saying – _“It is the natural way in which we are attuned to receive affection, a by-product of our environment and experiences as we grow up. There is absolutely nothing wrong with what your primary language of love is.”_ – which coaxes some girls to open up to their friends.

> _Your primary love language is:_
> 
> _A: Words of Affirmation_
> 
> _B: Gifts_
> 
> _C: Acts of Service_
> 
> _D: Quality Time_
> 
> _E: Physical Touch <\--_

Tsuna peers down at the sheet of paper on his list and jumps when Yamamoto comes up to him.

“That was interesting, wasn’t it, Tsuna? I totally didn’t know there are things like languages of love!” Yamamoto laughs.

“Moron… Knowing this baseball idiot, you probably answered the questions seriously, didn’t you?” Gokudera grouches, not willing to be left out.

“Oh? You didn’t, Gokudera?” Yamamoto questions.

“Of course I didn’t. It was obvious right from the start all the options were pointing towards the languages of love. I just went ahead and added my own option and circled it throughout. Look!” His self-proclaimed right hand man even has the guts to brandish the multiple-choice sheet with the ‘Option F: Protect the Tenth’ written throughout.

Tsuna feels stunningly exasperated as he always is with Gokudera’s fanatical obsession over him.

Yamamoto, on the other hand, bursts out laughing at once.

“Gokudera, you’re the funniest as usual!”

“What was that…?!” Gokudera hisses.

That’s Tsuna’s sign to intervene.

“E-Enough about the love language test already, alright-?” Tsuna waves his hand as if to swipe away the matter. He pulls on a warbling smile to Gokudera’s one-sided glaring match with a close-eyed, smiling Yamamoto. “Let’s get to the rooftop to have lunch already! A-aaah~ I’m hungry already!”

He scrunches up the test paper and stuffs it into his pocket to toss out later.

It shouldn’t matter, even if it is true, right?

.

There are times when Tsuna is scared of Reborn, and not just in the ‘fear for your life’ brand that’s sort of become his life’s flavour text.

Reborn can be gentle. Tsuna has experienced it plenty of times, in particular the way he tugs at Tsuna’s brown tuffs when Tsuna indulges him in being his mare around town. Reborn is light, and breezy, light touches brushing up against his hand and scalp and occasionally, his cheek touching Tsuna’s ears when he’s seated on his shoulders. It’s in those moments that Tsuna feels most settled around Reborn.

But at the same time, Reborn is unpredictable. He can turn on Tsuna in a bat of the eye, even though those events are becoming less and less common.

A gentle tug on brown locks may suddenly become a scalp-searing tug. A gentle brush up against the back of his hand on stubborn, unwaking mornings could be followed by a harsh kick of polished small boots and shocking electricity conducted by metal. Let’s not get Tsuna started on those months he had spent training too. Being kicked down a mountain hurt in ways he can’t explain.

But more than anything, Tsuna’s always afraid of Reborn because of how close they’ve grown.

Having serene fondness suddenly be transformed into “let’s all screech for our lives and run because Reborn is on our backs” is not the worst, you see.

The worst is that Tsuna can’t remember a time when Reborn reached out to him without needing to. Reborn has always been respectful of personal space, even if it’s obviously not applicable for Tsuna. In turn, Tsuna had assumed his mentor values his own personal space highly. Tsuna fully understands and comprehends.

He just doesn’t get why it felt like there was some kind of distance between him and Reborn even when they’ve all but opened up to each other.

Until now, that is.

.

If asked who he feels closest to amongst his gua – _not-guardians_ , because nope. Tsuna certainly is not getting influenced by Mafia! – Tsuna would probably pick Yamamoto. Half the reason is admittedly because he’s the most normal out of the gang.

Gokudera is too fanatical; Tsuna still feels pressured by his expectations even after his skirt-peeking sin had been divulged (and speaking of that… actually, let’s not). Lambo is too young; Tsuna can’t confide his problems in him. Hibari is… Hibari. Mukuro, a virtually non-existent phantom. Nii-san is just… well. Let’s just say he’s not that far off behind the rest in the insanity spectrum.

But if asked who he feels most comfortable with after Yamamoto, Tsuna might have to choose Chrome. That kiss when they first met somehow lowered all his barriers of discomfort with her. He’s pretty much fine with any contact with her so long as it’s not another peck on his cheek. It felt nice, admittedly, but anything that’s forced is frowned upon in his eyes.

“Tonight’s dinner was karaage.” Tsuna smiles wryly as he hands over the bentos. His hand brushes against her fingers, and he ducks his head trying not to seem like he’s removing it as quickly as he could. “M-Make sure to eat everything, alright? Kaa-san made extra so Ken wouldn’t steal yours again…”

His voice dies in his throat.

Chrome is peering up at him with unreadable glassy eyes like she has something to say. He’d always thought hers is the very symbol of mist – a stark contrast to his expressive, open book face.

“…Bossu,” Chrome begins.

“W-What?” Tsuna tries to convey the message of “You can go on. Take your time if you need to” in his smile without being too obvious. Because Chrome’s a very obvious product of abuse.

“I—” Chrome stops herself.

She dips her head mildly.

“Thank you for always caring for us and doing this. Even if Ken and Chikusa don’t show it… we’re all very appreciative to you for this.”

What’s the special occasion prompting her to say this?

Tsuna flushes lightly, pinching the fabric of his pants between two fingers nervously.

“I-It’s fine. It’s really nothing much.” He smiles, wondering awkwardly if there’s something else when Chrome peers up at him with almost disappointed-looking glassy eyes again. “It just makes me happy to know if you’re eating well. You look better – a-and ah, I don’t mean it in a perverted way! It’s just, Kyoko-chan and Haru have been saying how you fit better in your clothes—”

Tsuna probably is going down in history as the most undignified bos— _friend_ – in his friends’ eyes, isn’t he?

Chrome blinks.

She fiddles lightly with the edges of the plastic, looking quietly pleased.

“Thank you, Bossu.” Chrome offers a tiny smile – which is a trophy in itself – and she turns on her heels. “Then… I’ll see you tomorrow in school.”

“Mmh. See you tomorrow!” Tsuna lifts his hand in a wave.

He wonders how badly he just plummeted from grace in her eyes.

.

Nii-san is comforting in the way none others are. Tsuna figures it might be the healing factor of his flames, even if his voice box is anything but soothing to the ears.

“GOOD MORNING, SAWADA! YOU’RE EXTREMELY EARLY TODAY!” Nii-san screeches first thing in the morning.

Tsuna jumps and raises a finger to his lips, looking around the neighbourhood fearfully.

“Could you – keep it softer, Nii-san?” He winces. “We don’t want to wake the neighbourhood.”

“Oh, sorry. I forgot it’s still the extreme hours of the morning.” Nii-san has a face-splitting grin plastered over his face. Tsuna considers it a win that he’s quieter now. “So, Tsuna,” An arm is slung over his shoulder, fist firmly thumping on Tsuna’s upperarm. Tsuna tenses in realization. “Are you up for an EXTREME morning race? You should get Master Pao Pao in as well if he’s awake!”

Nii-san throws his head back in a loud echoing laugh.

Tsuna doesn’t know whether to be comfortable or not, even as his body relaxes at Ryohei’s reassuring warmth sinking in through his clothes.

“I just sort of ran away from bees, Nii-san.” Tsuna musters a smile. It figures that Nii-san would share the same sort of love language, ‘brotherhood through fists’ and all. “Maybe another time, okay?”

“Welp. That’s EXTREMELY fine with me!” Nii-san shrugs.

And Tsuna felt at peace, walking down the path to school tucked into Nii-san’s side the whole time.

.

Sometimes, Tsuna thinks he doesn’t know Mukuro.

Mukuro is virtually non-existent in his life, you see.

But when he does come around with a “Kufufu” and an unreadable smile on his lips, Tsuna can’t help the flashes of memories behind his eyes. He can’t help but ache, to remember that chilling horror when he realized Mukuro had taken over Bianchi and Gokudera; feel the phantom pain when they lunged at him with daggers.

Then it all disappears when a hint of disguised concern comes to into Mukuro’s eyes, a query of his well being hidden as a taunt.

“Kufufu… I’ve come to see whether my domination of Vongola has become any easier in the time I was gone, and it seems to be the case.”

“Like -  I - said – I’ve never agreed to be the Decimo, you guys…!” Tsuna pulls at his own hair in exasperation, and the smile on Mukuro’s face shifts from wary to smug satisfaction.

“Just keep saying that, my little puppet. We’ll see where you are in ten years.”

“URGH!”

Mukuro remains the one person Tsuna doesn’t mind not having contact with.

.

But not really, because Tsuna is starved.

Not really, because Tsuna is always afraid.

.

There are days when Tsuna returns from school and settles deep into the plane of his bed. It’d be a lie to say Reborn doesn’t allow him rest days between explosions and homework, because _he does_. Somehow, Reborn is able to trace his mood as per always and figure out when Tsuna needs a break. Because it’s on days like this, where the world is cold and dark, that he’s allowed to lie on the bed, feeling worn and empty and hollowed out.

And Tsuna would curl up even without changing out of his school uniform, even without pulling a blanket over himself. He’d hug himself, because that’s the next best thing behind having someone else’s arms around him.

Because he can’t be selfish.

Kaa-san is now needed by the children – Lambo, 1-Pin, Fuuta – all three of them deprived of a childhood whereas Tsuna had been spoiled rotten. It’s only fair that they get the mother Tsuna had been so blessed to have.

Still, he can’t help feeling cold with chilly air on his back.

He presses his back against the wall, but that’s still a futile attempt at comfort.

His arms are warm and familiar, but there’s only so much his arms could reach, encircling only a small portion of his front.

(Tsuna sometimes wishes he has someone who would wrap their arms around him; to shield him away from this world at least for the time being; to root him to the ground and assure him that he’s allowed to drift and breathe and be himself.)

It’s when his eyes are closed and he’s taking in the deafening silence that the door’s flung wide open with boisterous “GYAHAHAHA!”s.

Brown eyes snap open at once.

“Tsuna, you’re gonna lose this bodypile!” Lambo scrambles up his bed and flings himself onto Tsuna’s chest.

“Lambo!” He shrieks, alarmed. His arms fly around the child out of habit.

“Bangbangbang.” Lambo jabs his pointer finger into Tsuna’s chest, making a gun with his hand. “Tsuna is dead! This is Lambo-san’s victory!” He squeals, delighted.

Tsuna wonders how much that makes sense in this little brat’s candy-obsessed head.

“Mmh. Since Tsuna lost the match, Tsuna will now listen to what I’ve got to say. Tsuna will be body pillow for Lambo-san until Lambo-san sleeps! Tsuna’s gonna be Lambo-san’s rocking chair until then! You understand that, Tsuna?!” He demands.

“That totally makes no sense!” Tsuna writhes in exasperation.

“Lambo-san going to sleep now! One sheep… Two sheep… Three sheep…*snoooooore*”

“Too fast! You fall asleep too fast!” Tsuna whisper-screeches, careful with the boy on his frame.

Sighing at Lambo’s loud snores, Tsuna angles him to the side of his body – right in the space created by Tsuna’s curling position – and lightly thumbs the area beneath heavy dark bags. Lambo – he thinks faintly, with a pang in his heart – probably had another sleepless night, missing the comfort of home and his own mother. Kaa-san had often reminded him that Lambo’s just another five-year-old. It’s only natural for him to miss home.

Tsuna makes a note to visit Bovino one of these days, if only for Lambo’s sake.

In the meantime…

Tsuna closes worn eyes, pulling Lambo closer gently.

Lambo fits right into the tiny space made by the curve of his arms, a warm and drooling mess that’s soundly asleep wrapped up securely against Tsuna’s front.

He’s there when Tsuna opens his eyes after a few hours nap, and Tsuna feels better, knowing that even if there isn’t someone around to protect him, there is someone who needs him to protect – who needs him in their lives.

He stays by Lambo’s side till the little cow brat pees his pants in his bed with a tell-tale shiver.

 _Then_ Tsuna screeches and wakes the boy up with his panic.

.

“Bossu, this… is a little something for you.”

Chrome offers a gift, something wrapped up which he takes gingerly with utmost carefulness.

“W-Why-?” Tsuna is bewildered, hopelessly lost as he looks up at her.

Chrome dips her head.

“I-It’s just a small fragment of my gratitude. Please accept it, Bossu.”

Oh, she stuttered.

Bad, _bad_ Tsuna. Making Chrome nervous is practically a sin worthy of hell itself.

“S-Sorry! I was just surprised!” Tsuna fumbles. He almost drops the gift, which upsets Chrome enough for her eyes to look large and disappointed in him. Tsuna offers a smile that’s hopefully not as nervous as he feels. “You didn’t have to do that, since I wasn’t expecting anything in return. But… That’s very kind of you, Chrome. I’ll accept this. Thank you very much.”

And Chrome falls back into that silence again, large eyes blinking.

Tsuna thinks he might have figured out Chrome’s love language now. He’s grateful, really. Words of affirmation do not eat a hole into his pocket, and Chrome’s probably the one person on Earth who deserves affirmation the most (even if he finds it sad how that came about).

Chrome smiles at him shyly.

And Tsuna smiles back, feeling endlessly grateful for his guardians.

He walks back with chocolate in his pocket, ready to be shared with the kids.

.

Tsuna runs through familiar motions with Hibari again and again. Hits and punches and hand chops and guards and ducks and tonfas and—

\--And he’s beaten down into the ground again.

It’s in the aftermath, where Hibari wavers on his feet and Tsuna is unable to move a limb that Hibari smiles – Tsuna refuses to admit how horrified he was the first time he saw that. He still refuses to lift his face to see that terrifying expression even now – and says –

“Wao.”

He’s impressed.

Tsuna’s not.

What’s new about this?

Tsuna somehow gets his question answered when he blacks out at a particularly hard smack over his head and wakes up being slung over _Hibari Kyoya_ ’s back, being dragged half-way across campus into the school building. Presumably, to the disciplinary room.

Tsuna wants to cry.

Is he about to be roasted? Will Hibari eat him whole like that?

It’s not until he’s seated down on the couch and sees Hibari pulling out a medical kit that he dares to move. The raven retracts the kit before he could reach it, lifting a delicate brow that threatens and questions and intimidates all at the same time.

“Y-You didn’t want to go to Shamal-san’s, r-right-?” Tsuna trembles incessantly. That’s the only reason he could figure for why they’re here. “I-I’ll help fix your wounds, so p-please—” _Please spare my life for today!_ Tsuna wants to wail.

Hibari snorts, a huffing sound so soft Tsuna’s eyes bulge wondering if he’d imagined it. And before Tsuna knows it, he finds one large bandaid smacked over his cheek.

“Fix yourself before you concern yourself with others, Omnivore.” Hibari states evenly to his bewildered stare. He lifts another bandit, and Tsuna _convulses_ with the effort not to scream when his fingers press the material into a wound.

“I don’t owe you anything.” Hibari says, eyes glinting with something menacing which Tsuna _swears_ is sadistic pleasure.

“I-I-I-I get it.” Tsuna quivers. He squeaks at yet another slap over a wound. He attempts to argue that it’s fine, but his voice dies in his throat even before it comes out. Hibari is scary. “Thank you… Hibari-san…” He meekly says instead.

Hibari scoffs but extracts another bandage.

Hibari’s form of tough love is not that different from Reborn’s.

Tsuna revises on its differences when he’s allowed to touch the prefect with feather-light touches to patch him up – and finds himself knocked out by another tough hit over the head with a tonfa when it’s done. He finds himself already delivered to his door when he wakes up.

Tsuna gets used to tonfa swipes over the head as a form of greeting.

He’d settle for any sort of contact from Hibari, being the masochist he is.

.

Friends touch, even in daily routine.

Yamamoto appears to have gotten the memo, where Gokudera hadn’t.

It comes in the form of the littlest things, really, if only due to Yamamoto’s time on the baseball team. He’s unabashed to sling his arm around Tsuna as an amicable greeting, to pat Tsuna on the shoulder when he’s laughing at Gokudera again, to hook his arms around Tsuna and lift him up jokingly in a strength competition with Gokudera during lunch – Yamamoto is already touching him plenty, honestly.

Tsuna feels bad for wanting more.

“So, what’s up recently, Tsuna?” Yamamoto grins as they’re standing outside school, waiting for Gokudera to get something he forgot in the classroom.

“Up? There… hasn’t been anything.” Not that he recalls of anyways.

“No need to hide it now.” Yamamoto barks a laugh that’s all open and understanding. “You’ve been acting a bit weird, avoiding our touches recently.” His smile’s lopsided. “What’s up with that?”

“Oh.”

And it all comes back to Tsuna – how flustered he’s been ever since he did that love language test; how he’d jolted back from the first few contact, mind fixed in a turmoil over whether Gokudera and Yamamoto are truly that comfortable with him; over why he wants more now that he’s aware of it.

Tsuna gulps and averts his gaze.

“I-It’s nothing, Yamamoto.”

“Oh, really?” Yamamoto’s eyes betray the smile on his face.

And it makes Tsuna want to admit his guilt immediately, because Yamamoto hasn’t done anything to deserve being lied to.

“It’s just—” His voice doesn’t come well enough. His shoulders slump. “—I was a bit troubled by my love language test results.” Tsuna admits, drooping in further. He coughs, attempting to muffle the words before Gokudera returns. “It’s… ahmphumph.”

“What was that?” Yamamoto nudges.

“It’s…*cough*physicaltouch*cough*”

“Ah, I see.”

‘Ah, I see’?!

Tsuna has a whip splash turning to look up at Yamamoto with wide eyes. Does that truly not mean a thing to him?!

Yamamoto’s peering up at the cloudy skies with a thoughtful look. He smiles when he drops his head down to peer at Tsuna.

“Mine’s the Acts of Service, if you wanna know!”

Tsuna didn’t ask! But – well – it’s nice to know –

“Yamamoto…” Tsuna begins softly. “Does it really not matter to you? That –” His heart’s pounding. He squeezes his eyes shut. “I might be taking any contact with you differently from what you’re intending—” Here it comes. Here’s a flinch of disgust or a crude comment – even though Tsuna knows Yamamoto is never like that.

“Hm? But all that contact’s exactly what I was intending.” Yamamoto points out.

Tsuna’s eyes snap open.

His rain guardian’s smiling leisurely down at him, almost indulgent in his gaze.

“Afterall, we’re already buddies who have put our lives in each other’s hands, right?” His voice bubbles over with delighted laughter. “What’s a few brushes or a couple dozens when we’ve got that level of trust in each other?”

It’s like watching rays of sunlight break through cloudy skies, Tsuna thinks in awe.

Yamamoto’s mindset is amazingly simple yet easy to understand.

“T-Then—” Tsuna wrings his hand. The words spill out clumsily. “—It’s okay if I touch you on the shoulder next time when you’re feeling bad about something?”

Surprise crosses Yamamoto’s face. He’s startled.

“Yeah, totally!”

“You won’t mind if I lean in too close and brush against your shoulder while walking?”

“Sure thing! Why would I mind though-?”

“It’s fine if I lean on your shoulder when I get tired and accidentally fall asleep while studying?”

“Tsuna.” Yamamoto begins. Tsuna’s heart sinks at the solemn look on his face. “I don’t get what you want unless you say it properly.” A grin blossoms back on his face as he shrugs. “Not that I can ever refuse you in the first place. You _did_ save my life back then, you know? That’s sort of the biggest act of service you could ever do for a guy like me.” Yamamoto laughs. The sound is out of place in their conversation.

“Don’t call yourself by that. Yamamoto, you’re a good person.” Tsuna says absently. A fond, knowing glimmer enters Yamamoto’s smile. “I just – I – What I want is just a little weird, because I –”

He wrings his hands.

Tsuna timidly peeks up at Yamamoto.

He’s still giving him that stupidly cheerful smile, which makes Tsuna feel bad about feeling bad to begin with.

Tsuna drops his head.

“S-Sometimes, I just—I dunno – feel sort of …lonely, I guess…?” He shrugs, not daring to take a breath and look up at Yamamoto. Tsuna keeps his gaze firmly affixed on the pavement. “I get lonely.” He repeats. “And the world becomes a bit scarier when I do. And when I do, all I want is just for someone to be beside me and hold me close and let me know I’ve got a place until it passes and—”

His voice dies out, dried by the words as if sapped of volume by them.

Tsuna feels like the world’s just like that right now.

All white silence waiting for Yamamoto’s cold refusal to penetrate it.

Tsuna’s brought back to reality by an arm coming down behind him and dragging him into Yamamoto’s chest.

Tsuna gasps, eyes flung wide.

“What? So it’s just that!” Yamamoto laughs.

Tsuna’s gasping and breathless and overwhelmed by the warmth around him, searing his chest, the rhythmic _‘thump thump thump’_ that’s pressed close against his ears.

“If it’s just that, I can stay by your side all you want when that happens! What are friends for, right, Tsuna?” Yamamoto laughs.

And it releases a weird sort of tension in his chest that makes Tsuna choke up with emotion, burying his face away in Yamamoto’s chest.

He shouldn’t have had so little faith in Yamamoto.

.

“M-Mine is words of affirmation.” Gokudera reveals with a nervous huff of air when Tsuna comes out to him, safe in the privacy of his bedroom.

“I thought you hadn’t wanted to do the quiz properly?” Yamamoto chuckles and teases.

“S-Shuddap! I did it in my own private time!” Gokudera hisses. His countenance turns contemplative as he quietens. “It’d changed a bit since my past.” He quietly answers their unspoken question. “Gifts used to be my primary language, back in my days as a freelancer. That one’s now the last on the list.”

It’s a great change, all things given.

Tsuna could somewhat figure out what the other rankings are too.

Tsuna smiles wryly, feeling so much better at heart now that the matter’s shared with his friends.

“I’m sooo relieved.” He sighs, slumping forward on the low table.

His hands travel to the ones on both sides of him and he squeezes the pale and tan hands to convey this emotion. They jolt a bit in surprise.

Tsuna smiles shyly into his own arms.

“Thank you for accepting me, Yamamoto, Gokudera.” He mumbles, muffled.

“T-Tenth-!” Gokudera gasps. “N-No, the pleasure’s all mine!”

“It’s nothing, Tsuna! And careful there – this guy here has the love language of affirmation!” Yamamoto warns cheekily.

Tsuna lifts his head in time to see Gokudera punching Yamamoto lightly on the shoulder.

“Shut it! It’s not like I’ll die from one or two of Tenth’s praises!”

“Haha! So you admit you’ll die if there’s too many!” Yamamoto throws his head back in a laugh.

Gokudera shirks back as if burnt, hissing in response to Yamamoto’s truth.

Tsuna buries a smile in his arms.

(He loves his friends so much.)

.

“My love language is physical touch.” Tsuna divulges as he passes the curry rice.

Chrome blinks doll-like eyes up at him.

“I figured you may have been trying to find out…?” Tsuna says sheepishly.

Chrome blinks again and smiles softly.

Tsuna’s jaw drops when mist clouds them and he absolutely screeches when a pair of decidedly _un-Chrome_ hands reach out to wrap tightly around him.

He swears his soul turned to stone under the peck planted on the crown of his head.

“Thank you very much, Decimo.”

Even _that_ ’s said mockingly, damn it! How insincere can one be?!

Nevertheless, he feels like that just added a new layer to his bond with Mukuro, one greater than the one they have currently. If anything, Tsuna’s sure he’s got a new thing to focus on the next time he sees him – like, why did he throw in that kiss?!

Chrome giggles at his look of pure aghast when the mist fades.

Tsuna jumps when she places her hands on his shoulder in a small, half-hug.

“…Sorry, Bossu.” She has a ghost of smile when she pulls back. “It’s true I was trying to gather information for Mukuro-sama, but… It’s not a lie that I wanted to thank you for everything.”

Tsuna is still gaping when she turns on her heels. Chrome looks back at him, face back to default shyness, dipping her head the tiniest with a meek look at the bentos.

“Ano… Thank you for the curry rice.”

She’s gone by the time Tsuna has regained the right sense of mind.

Geez. These mists of his are really…

.

“You seem to have gotten closer to your guardians, Tsuna.” Reborn remarks, eyes flashing one day.

“Don’t call them my guardians! They’re my friends!” Tsuna retorts as he always does.

Reborn ignores it all the same.

“It’s good to be a responsible boss, but sometimes, you shouldn’t forget to take care of yourself.” Reborn’s eyes glint with something knowing. What’s new about that now? Tsuna grouches internally. “You should invite your _friends_ over more often.” He leaps off the table.

Tsuna, frankly, feels quite tempted to stick his tongue out at him.

.

The first time he takes someone up on their offer, it’s with Gokudera.

Seated in the white silence of the pure nothingness that’s his room, Tsuna had dialled and waited and waited until Gokudera picks up.

Gokudera is over before a minute is over.

“Tenth-!” Screeches the self-proclaimed right-hand man half way. Then, he remembers himself and abruptly quietens down, locking the door behind him with a distinct click. Tsuna feels almost tempted to smile at his considerate behaviour. He _would_ smile, if he’s not weighed down by something deep within, tiredness from another full day of school, and mafia, and living, in general – even if his friends brighten his days so, so very much.

Gokudera looks down at him, accessing the situation without words, surprisingly.

Then, next thing Tsuna knows, Gokudera’s climbing onto his bed in the first real attempt at breaching overly formal politeness. His weight sinks into the mattress at Tsuna’s side, and the warmth of his shoulder is a blanket of comfort pressed over Tsuna.

And Tsuna presses his head against Gokudera’s muscular shoulders and he closes his eyes. He doesn’t talk – of how it’s too much for a fourteen year old like him to suddenly be tossed into mafia and be forced to take part in over four major fights within a year. He doesn’t bemoan his life, even though he’s tired of it – so tired – because he knows there are still things he can live for. Bright things, like the presence of a friend beside him.

(Gokudera makes an oath to change mafia for the better, if that is what’s troubling his Tenth.)

Tsuna falls asleep that way, a murmur of thanks falling from his lips.

He feels calloused fingers lightly gracing the top of his head, almost hesitantly, as he’s drifting off.

The fingers straighten out into warm pats smoothing down his untameable locks protectively.

.

Tsuna is trapped in a mess of swirling dragons and snakes devouring and killing and him killing and—

\--and _WHAM!_

Something slams into his face, small but hard.

And Tsuna lurches awake, in a fit of sweat and gasps, unable to process the square edges of the room above him in the darkness dimly illuminated by the moon.

Beady eyes glint before him.

Reborn. In his pink pyjamas.

“You’re being too noisy, Dame-Tsuna.” He squeaks.

Tsuna wants to argue.

He wants to somehow blame him, because it’s his fault Tsuna’s dreaming about death and killing.

But then, Reborn turns around and he flops onto his bed.

 _Tsuna’s bed._ In his pyjamas.

“Uhhhmmm… Reborn _-san_?” His voice squeaks higher at the unusual honorific he pins on. Please, please don’t kill him in the middle of the night. His mother would mourn.

“What.” Reborn entertains him.

“You’re sleeping in the wrong bed right now.” Tsuna points out. _Obviously._

“I am well aware of that.”

Reborn’s eyes glint at him in the darkness, filled with intended meanings and ‘I dare you’s which Tsuna is too exhausted to take on at 3 am at night.

“Okay.” He breathes, sighing as he sprawls back down on his bed. Reborn nudges his hands and he pulls the not-infant towards himself snugly. “Goodnight, Reborn.” He mumbles, already half way back to a sleep hopefully not filled with dragons.

Reborn’s warmth in his arms is reassuring.

He hopes he is as reassuring to Reborn as Reborn is to him.

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: Thank you for all your sweet comments, below, guys ^-^


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